


A West Side Story

by Persiflage



Series: Mashed Up Tropes Fics [12]
Category: Holby City
Genre: Alternate Universe - Dance, Bernie Wolfe/Alex Dawson (Past Mentioned), Bernie Wolfe: World's Okay-est Lesbian, F/F, First Kiss, First Time, Musicals, Originally Posted on Tumblr, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-21
Updated: 2020-11-21
Packaged: 2021-03-09 22:42:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,200
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27653603
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Persiflage/pseuds/Persiflage
Summary: Dance AU: Serena's 'Sapphic Awakening' comes at the hands of theHolby City Divasstar dancer, nicknamed the Lone Wolfe.
Relationships: Serena Campbell/Bernie Wolfe
Series: Mashed Up Tropes Fics [12]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1960414
Comments: 13
Kudos: 51





	A West Side Story

**Author's Note:**

> Written for an Anon for the Mashed Up Tropes Meme on Tumblr, for the tropes: 23. Performer AU and 40. Almost Kiss.

_Rehearsals only started two days ago_ , Serena thought desperately. _How can I already be so far gone on this woman? How can I be so far gone on any woman?_ She bit her bottom lip, even as she watched in a sort of mesmerised fascination as Berenice Wolfe, star dancer with the _Holby City Divas_ , picked up young Morven Digby, apparently effortlessly, and lifted her high into the air. Serena couldn’t believe her eyes when Berenice pushed up onto her toes, her hand pressed firmly to Morven’s back, between her shoulder blades. The younger woman’s upper body was curved downwards so that the back of her head was mere inches from the back of Berenice’s and her legs were spread apart, toes pointed towards the floor. Berenice’s left arm was outstretched at just under ninety degrees, helping to maintain her balance.

“Brilliant, isn’t she?” asked a voice to Serena’s left. She turned her head and saw a woman of roughly her own and Berenice’s age – not that the woman currently lowering Morven to the floor appeared the same age as Serena: she was slender, long-legged, and astonishingly supple, not to mention incredibly strong.

“Amazing,” Serena agreed, then wondered if she should have tempered her response when the woman, Fleur, Serena recalled her name now, smirked at her in a very knowing fashion.

“You don’t stand a chance with her,” Fleur said, her tone slightly regretful. “She hasn’t had a partner for three years, not since her lover Alex died of breast cancer. Very self sufficient woman, is our Berenice. Very closed off, taciturn, and utterly disinterested in anything remotely personal or emotional.”

“And yet she dances,” Serena observed. Anyone who’d been dancing for any length of time knew that dancing was usually a very emotional experience.

“And yet,” agreed Fleur. “Quite the contradiction, is the Lone Wolfe.” She patted Serena’s knee. “If you’re ever looking for some no-strings uncomplicated fun, let me know.”

Serena swallowed, then nodded. She was a little shocked that Fleur had so easily figured out that Serena was attracted to women, or at least to one Berenice Wolfe. She found herself snorting at the nickname ‘Lone Wolfe’ and wondered who had come up with it.

She shook her head slightly, then resumed her close observation of Berenice. It wasn’t only her fierce desire for the blonde that made her pay such close attention, it was also work: the _Divas_ were putting on an adapted version of _West Side Story_ – the twist being that it was an all-woman cast with a strong element of queerness to it. She and Berenice were playing the rival gang leaders and today would be the first time that they danced together. She was both nervous and excited at the prospect, but more the former than the latter as it had been a couple of years or more since she’d last performed professionally. 

First her mother had fallen seriously ill with dementia and the disease had made her so violent at times that Serena had eventually given up on having the agency nurses in to help Adrienne – it just wasn’t worth the difficulty of dealing with their grievances when her mother took out her frustrations on them. Then, when she was going through Adrienne’s things after her death, Serena had discovered a cache of letters and photographs which had revealed that her mother had had another child, a daughter named Marjorie, who was a few years older than Serena. She’d been shocked, then angry, at her mother for hiding this older sister from her. Then she’d had to conduct a painstaking search for Marjorie, only to discover that she had died of breast cancer mere months before her mother. 

What she had found out next, though, had begun to make up for the loss of the sister she’d never known: Marjorie had had a son, Jason, who was a few years older than Elinor, Serena’s daughter, from whom she was estranged thanks to the machinations of Edward, her ex-husband. Jason, an orphan like Serena, was living in appalling accommodation that was haunted by drug dealers and thieves, and she’d had no hesitation about offering him a home with her instead. It had taken several months, and not a few meltdowns on the part of Jason, who had Asperger’s and preferred very fixed routines, for them to finally reach the point where they could live together and function as a family unit. And now that they’d achieved that, Serena was finally returning to performing. It had taken her months of intense training to get back to her old levels of fitness, but she’d done it, and Jac Naylor, the manager of the _Divas_ , had made it quite clear that if Serena couldn’t keep up with the rehearsal schedule for _West Side Story_ , she’d be out on her ear long before Press Night.

“All right, Campbell, you’re up. Digby, go and cool down, rehydrate, and grab a catnap or something. We won’t need you again for a couple of hours or so.”

Morven nodded, then hurried away to a corner of the stage to begin the ‘cool down’ exercises. 

Serena focused on Jac, listening as she briefly conferred with Berenice over the number she had just rehearsed with Morven, before she talked Serena and Berenice through their two numbers.

Serena ran through some warmup exercises to ensure she hadn’t stiffened up while she had been waiting, and covertly watched Berenice as she drank half a litre of water in a measured fashion, then did a few stretches.

“Ready?” Jac asked.

Both women nodded and she made a sweeping gesture, then stepped back out of their way.

Their first number involved the confrontation between Antonia, Tony, leader of the Sharks, and Bernardo, leader of the Jets. Serena had been cast as Tony and Berenice as Bernardo. By the time they reached the final part of their number Serena was quite ready to throw caution to the wind and just lunge at Berenice to kiss those tantalisingly soft-looking lips, and then, astonishingly, Berenice stumbled and landed on top of Serena, knocking the wind out of them both. The greater shock for Serena, greater than having Berenice Wolfe lying on top of her, was the way her lips grazed Serena’s cheek as her head fell past Serena’s.

Jac and Fleur appeared on either side of Serena, reaching for her and Berenice, but the other woman was already pushing herself up, muttering “I’m alright, I’m alright” before she disappeared off into the wings while Serena was still trying to gather enough breath and energy to get up off the floor.

“Are you alright?” Fleur asked worriedly, drawing her up from the floor.

“Think I’ll have some spectacular bruises tomorrow,” Serena said, a little breathless still.

“Did anyone see where Wolfe went?” Jac asked.

No one on stage seemed to know.

“Alright, Campbell, take a break. Get Donna Jackson to check you for bruising or abrasions – she’s a trained nurse. Fanshawe, see if you can find our Lone Wolfe.”

Fleur nodded to Jac’s instructions, then led Serena off the stage towards the dressing room she was sharing with Berenice. 

“I’ll go and grab Donna for you,” Fleur said as they arrived at the dressing room. 

“Thank you,” Serena said gratefully, then pushed open the door.

Berenice Wolfe was standing on the other side and she reached past Serena to close the door again, then crowded her up against the solid wood, muttering, “I’m going to kiss you unless you tell me not.”

“You better had kiss me,” Serena said firmly.

Their lips were scant millimetres apart when someone knocked on the door and Berenice flung herself across the room to sit on the wide window ledge looking down onto the street. She bent her legs up, pulling them to her chest, then rested her left cheek on her right knee so that her face was turned away from Serena.

After a pause to get her bearings again in consequence of a second near miss kiss, Serena opened the door and let Donna Jackson in.

Donna looked startled at the sight of Berenice but did not comment on her presence. She made Serena strip off her top and her trousers while she applied arnica cream to a handful of spots that she judged would be badly bruised the next day.

“Ms Naylor says you should take the rest of the day off – she doesn’t want you stiffening up because of the bruises. Personally, I’d recommend a long, hot soak if you’ve got a bathtub.”

“I have,” Serena agreed. “Thanks.” She accepted the tube of arnica from Donna, although she couldn’t see how she could apply the stuff to herself, and she could hardly ask Jason to do it.

As Donna went out, Jac Naylor came in and beelined straight for Berenice.

“What happened out there?” she asked, sounding concerned, not angry. “It’s very unlike you to fall over.”

“My ankle turned, just a little bit, just enough to tip me over.”

“Then you’d better get home and follow RICE,” Jac said. “Don’t come in tomorrow if it’s still feeling weak.” She turned back to Serena, who was gathering her things together. “Same goes for you. I don’t want to see you tomorrow if those bruises make you stiff. Understood?”

They chorused an agreement, then Berenice uncurled herself from the window ledge.

“Come back to mine,” Serena said. “Unless you’d rather not?”

Berenice prowled across the room towards her. “I very much would,” she said, her voice a low growl. She pinned Serena against the door for a second time, then pressed her mouth to the crook of her neck, where her pulse was hammering wildly. 

Serena groaned softly when teeth grazed lightly across her skin, before a tongue lapped over the same spot, carefully soothing the slight burn.

“Let’s get out of here,” Berenice said in her ear, her breath hot against Serena’s flesh.

“Let’s,” Serena gasped, then pushed away from the door, Berenice backing up quickly. The blonde turned away then, grabbing a leather jacket and a battered looking satchel from an armchair, before limping slowly after Serena as they made their way down three flights of stairs to the car park.

“Drive,” Berenice growled as soon as they were both buckled into their seats.

“Yes ma’am.” Serena threw her a sloppy salute, then started the car and pulled out of the parking space before heading for home with all due speed (considering the speed limit). She felt incredibly keyed up and almost desperate after two near misses and a kiss to her neck that made her feel as if she’d been branded. She felt as if she might just explode with desire if she didn’t get to kiss Berenice Wolfe within the next half hour.

The hand – made up of long, slender, elegant fingers with trimmed fingernails – wrapped over her upper thigh didn’t help as it nearly wrecked her concentration, and once she got there, Serena was sure she’d driven home on autopilot.

They climbed out of the car, then hurried up the drive and into the house, before Serena found herself pinned to her own front door, Berenice’s thigh pressed firmly between her legs, and her breath hot on the side of Serena’s neck as she began a slow, meandering journey from the crook of her neck to her mouth.

A hand made its way inside her trousers and between her legs, then a thumb pressed at her clit even as she continued to ride Berenice’s thigh.

Just as Berenice’s mouth was about to descend on hers Serena came with a harsh cry, involuntarily jerking her head back against the door.

“Fuck!” she gasped, trying to maintain her balance as her legs trembled with aftershocks. 

The next moment a strong pair of arms lifted her clean off her feet and she felt a momentary shock at how easily Berenice picked her up, then she felt gleeful as she was carried upstairs and into her bedroom.

“You can definitely come again,” she said in a sultry voice.

“I might just do that,” Berenice agreed, then made short work of stripping Serena out of her clothes.

“Alright?” she asked, suddenly looking concerned that Serena might not, in fact, be one hundred percent into this.

“Very alright,” she said in a firm voice. 

Berenice nodded, then began to remove her own clothes. “I suppose Fleur told you my story?” she asked as she slid off her button down shirt.

“Only briefly,” Serena told her. “A bare outline.”

Berenice nodded, then unfastened her trousers and allowed them to pool at her feet. “It’s been three years since I’ve had any kind of intimacy with another woman.”

Serena snorts a little. “You’ve nothing to worry about, trust me. I’ve never been intimate with a woman at all.” 

“Well then, Serena Campbell, allow me to fully introduce you to your Sapphic side.”

Berenice’s grin was crooked and her expression full of a sort of brazen cheek that Serena found instantly desirable.

“Be my guest, Wolfe.”

Berenice slipped off her socks, bra, and a pair of boxer shorts, then climbed onto the bed beside her. “Ready?”

“Ready.” Serena lay back and prepared for enlightenment.

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted [here](https://pers-books.tumblr.com/post/629852159228461056/mash-up-time-23-40-plz).


End file.
